


Can I Help You?

by allthekingsmen (anglophileprussian)



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Gen, Harry Hart Lives, Implied Relationships, M/M, Taken!AU, bamf!harry hart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 22:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3463844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anglophileprussian/pseuds/allthekingsmen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Hart is a man with a specific set of skills. And, when Eggsy is in danger, he is willing to use them as he sees fit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can I Help You?

**Author's Note:**

> this is based on a prompt from Tumblr user flarewarrior: "Taken!AU where Eggsy gets abducted and Harry tears a war path across Europe to find him." This, and other fic/headcanons can be found at yourspringsoldier.tumblr.com

"Can I help you?"

The man does not fit in with the rest of the bar’s patrons, though he doesn’t look uncomfortable because of it. He seems content to ignore his surroundings in favor of his drink.

"You don’t belong here," the bartender repeats; he’s only trying to be kind. He’s been sending the man looks from behind the bar all evening, but it’s been for nothing.

"I’d like to finish my drink please," the man tells him. His glass is still half full.

"Evan’s going to be here soon. You best get out before then."

"I’m certain Evan and I will get along nicely."

He shifts slightly in his seat and the bartender recognizes the shape on the man’s hip. From the careful way the man keeps drinking, it’s intentional too.

"I’ll just be getting on now," the bartender mutters, stepping away. He knows his place, and right now he needs to get the fuck out before something happens.Time for a smoke break.

-

Fifteen minutes later, he comes back from his smoke break and the front door’s locked. After swearing and banging on the door, he goes around and gets in through the employee’s entrance.

The alcohol behind the bar is still flowing, dripping down the front of the bar in streams. The glass crunches everywhere he walks, stepping around the bodies on the floor. Sitting at the same bar stool, the well dressed man is finishing his drink.

"I’m sorry about the mess." He doesn’t sound very sincere.

"I was on break. Ain’t my fault you trashed the place."

"I’d leave before the police arrive, if I were you," the man advises. He sets down his drink and stands, adjusting his cuffs.

The bartender takes his place behind the bar to return his keys. Things like this happen often enough that he knows when he’s in the way. He nods at the other man’s polite goodbye, and books it out the back way.

-

The envelope, mailed to the Unwin home, had contained an old fashioned cassette tape, and a device for playing it. Although Michelle Unwin did not know what Eggsy and Harry did for a living, she called the Kingsman tailor shop before playing it. It was a good thing that she did.

Harry took it into his office before letting it play. The voice on the recording told him in a toneless American accent that he had found Eggsy snooping in places he shouldn’t have been. That he was going to be held until they could get their assurance that there would be no more interference.

Taped to the inside of the envelope still was a Polaroid picture. Harry stared at Eggsy’s bruised, unconscious face for only a moment before pocketing it, and calling in sick. 

-

Merlin is waiting on the plane for him.

"Where are we going?" he asks as Harry. 

"Paris. Lousy time of year for it."

"Very wet," Merlin agreed. "Did you talk to our contact."

"I did." Harry takes out one of their tablets. "He was helpful."

He runs through the checklist in his mind. Daisy was at daycare, until Michelle could get off work and take her to the estate for safety. Lancelot was going to pick up JB when her own plane landed.

With a few choice button presses, he pulls up the digital recording. He can calmly listen to the recording again and again, because it’s what he has to do.

-

Perhaps it is the British aristocracy in his blood, but he hates Parisian taxis. The people driving them take the longest routes possible, and are never as surprised as he’d like when he reveals his gun.

"I’m in a bit of a hurry: could you bring me to Sainte Chapelle’s church?"

"Fucking English," the driver mutters, grudgingly obliging. Harry contemplates shooting him, just in case. At the cathedral, he asks the driver to idle as though he was trying to pick up a fare.

After a few minutes, service lets up and people start filtering out. A man in a short coat comes over and slides into the back of the cab. He asks, in brisk French, to be taken to the Rue des Ecoles.

"I’m terribly sorry, but we’re going to have to take a detour first."

"Who are you?" the man asks in heavily accented English.

"I’m not important, but I would like to ask you about your employer. He’s holding into something I would like back." He shoots the man in the leg, and smiles, pressing the gun into his side. "Now, if you wouldn’t mind telling the driver where we’ll be going."

-

"Eggsy."

The young man groans, pressing his face into Harry’s chest. His nose wrinkles when he finds it damp with blood.

“‘Arry?” His body curls up on itself, still shivering from being on the stone floor for so long.

"You’re safe. Everything is fine." He holds the boy to his chest as firmly as he can without hurting him. "Are you hurt."

Eggsy hums what may be a ‘no’, and blinks open his eyes as if he’s waking up from a long nap. “Harry? Where are we-, you’re bleeding.”

"It’s not my blood."

Hearing that makes Eggsy smile, eyes closing again with exhaustion. He’d been gone for almost two days before Harry could find him, but he was safe again. He could bring his boy home safe.

He pulls them both upright, and leads them through the basement to the street again. If Eggsy notices the bodies and blood surrounding them, he does not say a word.


End file.
